


A Title

by Sunset



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, BAMF Castiel, Bottom Dean, M/M, Violence, Young Castiel, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:11:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunset/pseuds/Sunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shhh. Shhh, it's okay. It's alright. I'm here. See?"</p>
<p>Let's murder people and cuddle and get awkward.</p>
<p>Yeah? Sound good? Too weird? Gonna pass? S'alright. I don't need you. I'll be fine. By myself. Crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Title

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains a very graphic scene of sexual harassment and assault. If you like stories with rape, leave. This isn't for you. If you do choose to read this story and find yourself uncomfortable. Good, that's what I was going for.

Cas had no idea why he was in his old middle school. Nostalgia, he decided.

He milled through the crowd, not going in any particular direction. The bell would ring soon but he didn't particularly care. Cas was planning to skip today anyway. He towered over everyone a good six inches or more, having hit his growth spurt early. He was one of the tallest freshmen at his high school as well.

"Ms. Hinton," Cas said stopping in front of one of his old classrooms. "Haven't seen you in forever."

Ms. Hinton, a plump and pretty creature, turned around, and seeing Cas, embraced him.

"Castiel," she said warmly. "Let me look at you. My god you haven't aged at all."

"No mam. Kept myself the same, just for you," he said, as she examined him at arms length.

"How are you liking high school?"

"Just fine. Bit crowded." Cas moved to the side to let several students through the door. They glanced at him as they passed, curious. "Anyone this year as annoying as I was?"

"No! You were a complete sweetheart!"

"I practically lived in your class room last fall."

"And I was happy you did!"

Cas blushed faintly, looking at the floor. He shifted. "Thanks, Ms. Hinton."

"Not at all, dear."

The bell rang and Cas craned his neck to look behind him. The halls were clearing. "I'd better go."

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Cas laughed. "Probably."

"Castiel," Ms. Hinton intoned, her voice mockingly stern.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I won't skip to visit old teachers again."

She cracked a smile. "You calling me old?"

"No! Never!"

"Oh, alright. Now, away with you!"

Cas turned to wave goodbye as he walked away. Ms. Hinton rolled her eyes and closed the door. Ms. Hinton was awesome.

Cas chose to walk out the front door. No one would care to stop him.

"Cas?"

"Hmmm?" He swung around. "Who? Oh, hey Dean."

"Hi."

"Hello."

"What're you doing here?"

Cas shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "Got bored. Ditched."

"You ditched school, so you could go to a different school," Dean said blandly.

"Well when you put it that way. . ."

"I thought you were supposed to be smart."

"Uh. . .sorry?"

Dean stared at Cas, chin tilted upward. Cas was atleast a head taller than Dean, if you're eyeballing it.

"Why're you out of class?"

"Got called to the office."

"Cool. I'm gonna go home and take a nap now."

"You do that."

"Kay."

Cas left the school, walked home. His feathers were ruffled. Dean. . . oh fuck, what was his last name? It's like a gun. . . Winchester. Yeah, Dean Winchester. Cas didn't know him too well. They used to be on the same soccer team when they were little, and went to the same daycare. Lived in the same neighborhood, even. But, they'd never been very close. It didn't bother Cas too much. And if he did bother him? Well, we'd never really know. He's really good at keeping secrets.

⋯⋯

How long he'd been waiting. An hour, two? Dean scowled from where he leaned against the movie theater. He hadn't even been home today. And it was obvious Lisa had ditched him. He'd asked the acne-faced kid at the ticket counter the time about ten or so minutes ago, for lack of a phone.

He drew his jacket closer around him as the wind picked up. Dean was fed up.

"This is bullshit," He muttered to himself as he walked briskly down the street, face down against the wind.

⋯⋯

Dean shuffled down the narrow alley, head down, shoulders hunched, hands curled into fists deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. He felt like an idiot. Not about the Lisa thing, no, no that wasn't a big deal. But he'd left Sammy at home. Alone.

He hadn't seen where he was going, eyes trained on the dirty concrete. Dean walked right into somebody. His cheek and nose pressed into the fabric of the shirt before he backpedaled away, apologies rattling rapid-fire from his mouth. But as he wheeled back, strong hands gripped his shoulders, hard enough to bruise, and spun him around. They pulled him back so he was flush against the man's chest.

Dean's heart leapt into his throat. He opened his mouth to scream, but he never made a sound louder than a whimper, because the man had slipped two fingers into Dean's mouth, pushing down on his tongue. They caressed the inside of his cheek. He bit down and ground his teeth together until the bitter salty taste of blood coated his tongue. The man muffled his shout of pain in the stiff leather of Dean's coat.

Dean stiffened as he felt those bloodied fingers pull out of his mouth and tighten around his throat, long, ragged fingernails digging into his neck. Words whispered in his ear by a mouth whose hot breath reeked of cheap whiskey.

"Hiya," the man said. "Nice night, innit?"

⋯⋯

Cas opened the backdoor of the diner, letting warm yellow light pool onto the cracked asphalt. He was glad his shift was over. His silhouette was long and thin in the glow.

He shut the door behind him and cut across the nearly empty parking lot. A girl smiled sweetly at him from her perch on the trunk of someone's car, her breasts spilling over the edge of her low cut dress.

"Hey Cassie," she called. "How's life?"

Cas stopped mid-stride and gave her a once over. Her lipstick needed a touch up.

"You cold, Bunny?" he asked, ignoring her question. Her bare shoulders and naked legs were flushed red from the winter chill.

Bunny smirked and tossed her ruby red hair over one shoulder, wicked eyes twinkling. "A little. You gonna fix that for me?"

"Pass," Cas remarked dryly.

Bunny pouted, shoulders slumping. She didn't look more than seventeen with her big doe eyes and rosebud mouth. "Still gay, huh?"

Cas smiled softly and inclined his head. "Afraid so."

"A crying shame."

Cas scoffed. "For who?"

"Me?" She batted her fake eyelashes.

"I gotta be home by ten," he lied.

"Sure, baby. Sure."

Cas turned to walk away, in long, purposeful strides.

"Tell your brother hi for me!" Bunny shouted at his back, as Cas crossed the rest of the parking lot. "And get home safe," she added to herself, watching him cross the street and disappear into shadow.

It stopped him dead, when he saw the man disappear down the alley. It didn't look right. Something about the set of his shoulders, too tense. How he looked all around him, up and down the street, before stepping foot in the alley. But he didn't see Cas. No one ever did. Not with him standing in the dark like he does, motionless, not even blinking. Invisible.

Cas took off his shoes and set them aside. He shrugged off his trench coat and left that on the curb too, but not before folding it neatly. Wouldn't do to wrinkle his coat.

He moved forward silently, balanced on the balls of his sock covered feet. He kept close to the wall, but not close enough to scrap the brick and make a sound. When he reached the edge of the alley and crouched down to peak, he froze in place.

Because there was Dean, Dean fucking Winchester, held fast against a man's chest. It couldn't be anyone else. And he looked scared too, eyes wide and darting everywhere, looking for a means of escape. The second man, the one who'd been so suspicious entering the alley, walked toward Dean and the first man. Cas crept forward, still crouched, and pressed himself to the wall not five feet from the three. He was hidden from them by a stack of cardboard cboxes, precariously piled. Cas took great care not to touch them.

"Well, well, well. What a sight!" The second man said. "This is our lucky night, isn't it?"

The first man grabbed hold of Dean's jaw and forced his head to the side. "He's a pretty one, eh?"

"Oh, very pretty indeed." The second man ran his thump down the side of Dean's face, over his mouth. He pressed his thumb against Dean's lips, between them. "He bite?"

"Still got his milkteeth."

"Mmm." The second man took the zipper of Dean's coat and pulled down, revealing a faded red t-shirt. With a smile, he took the hem of the shirt and pushed it up over Dean's body until it caught at the underarms, exposing Dean's narrow torso and chest, hairless and pale in the moonlight that found its way into the alley.

Cas bit his lip, horrified and motionless, as he watched. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

The second man ducked his head and put his mouth to one of Dean's nipples, taking it between his teeth and twisting. Dean flinched and his arm jerked, the reflex to punch held back

The second man put his hand on Dean's crotch, kneading slow and hard. "This what you want?" Dean opened his mouth to speak, only to have a loud moan ripped from his throat as both men bit him, leaving red swollen marks on his skin. Cas shivered, but not from the cold.

"Shit," The first man said. He pushed his nose into the hollow of Dean's shoulder and inhaled the scent of his skin. "Let's fuck him now." Dean started at that, squirming. But as he shied away from the man behind him, he moved closer to the man in front, who slipped his leg into the gap between Dean's and pressed his thigh against Dean's crotch, rubbing against it. Dean screamed and the second man slapped him hard enough to turn his head. His cheek was bright red.

"Yeah," the second man added, breathing harder than before. He shooked his hand out. "Tie him up. He's halfway there already."

Cas bit his lip. He reached into his back pocket for the pocket knife he always carried. It clicked open with a soft snick!

"You say something?" The first man asked Dean, as he simultaneously wound duct tape tightly around Dean's wrists and pushed the jacket off his shoulders. Cas didn't even breathe.

Dean's voice was on the side of reasonable, with an undercurrent of hysteria. "Fuck man. Just let me go. Alright?"

He could hear the smile in the voice. "Now. Why would we do that?"

"You want money? I got money." Panic and fear laced Dean's every word. Each plea was punctuated with a shudder as the cold air kissed his skin.

"We don't want your money." The second man's hands ghosted over Dean's stomach before unbuckling his belt. His jeans slid down and off his legs. With them, the shoes. Their noise masked the sound of Cas slipping from his hiding place and creeping up behind the man facing Dean.

Something snapped in Cas just then. A flip switched. Triggered a chain reaction. What ever you wish to call it. His left eye twitched, ever so slightly. Blink and you miss it.

A finger hooked into the waistband of Dean's briefs, pulling at them teasingly. The second man peeled them off and flung them into the darkness behind him. The briefs flew over Cas' head and dropped to the ground.

Dean whimpered when he felt hands on the back of his thighs, lifting them up and pulling them apart. He was off the ground, naked and shivering except for the jacket that trapped his arms and the shirt around his neck. "No," Dean pleaded, as Cas slowly rose to his feet, knife in hand.

"What's that?"

"Please. Please no."

"Say it again? I couldn't hear you." They were toying with him now.

"Please!" He sobbed loudly, tears pricked his eyes. His vision blurred.

The second man chuckled as he undid the fly on his jeans. "That's right. That's it," He cooed, moving further between Dean's legs and leaning over him. "Beg."

Something hard and slick pressed against Dean's ass. Dean choked back a scream as his whole body arched into the air, head thrown back, body tense, revulsion coursing through his veins like acid, burning him up from the inside. He felt like he was going to throw up. Bile stung his throat. The first man's breath was heavy and labored, eyes dark and feral as Dean's head pushed into his shoulder. He watched Dean's chest heave as he gasped, the pounding of his heart in his ear.

It happened oh so quickly. Cas moved forward like a ghost, his touch soft as a feather. He held him close as he drew the knife across the rapist's neck. But he was gone before the man even stumbled, driving the knife through the other man's eye, missing Dean's ear by centimeters.

Cas caught Dean in his arms, holding him close when his kneess collapsed underneath him. He pressed Dean's head into his shirt, as his gross sobs filled the air.

Blood sprayed from the slit throat of the man to their right. He twitched horribly in his death throes, a literally fountain of blood. Cas watched him die, unmoved. Yet he shielded Dean away, keeping his head turned. The blood pooled on the ground, soaking into his socks and the hem of his pants. It splattered against Dean's legs. To their left the other man already lay dead. Cas had twisted the knife as it went in, brutally scrambling his brain matter. Blood and eyeball fluid leaked from the wound. Blood also dripped from his ears, nose, and a bit dribbled from his mouth.

Cas made to lead Dean away, but Dean cried out and only clung to him harder, fists twisting is Cas' shirt.

Cas rested his chin on Dean's head and closed his eyes. "Shhh. Shhh, it's okay. It's alright. I'm here. See?" Cas stroked his head, petting him, his other arm firmly wrapped around Dean's quivering shoulders. "I'm here."


End file.
